Red Forest
by CookieHunter
Summary: When Raphael discovers a camp of mutants after being attacked, he must choose between the path he's known all his life or a new life where he is treated as he wished to be treated. Not only this, but he must choose between his family and a mutant tigress with curves and quite a personality. RaphaelxOC Contains language, blood/gore, and adult themes
1. Chapter 1

Hey guys, so this is a new Fan fiction about the Ninja Turtles, mostly Raphael and an original character.

This is my first story about the turtles, so I hope I got their personalities right so we'll have to see.

Hope you enjoy it and feel free to comment or fave.

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Raphael knew it was going to be a bad day, he just knew it. He took shuttering breaths, coughing slightly on his own thick saliva, leaving a thick copper taste on his tongue. The only noise he could hear at this point was the blood rushing in his skull, draining quickly from his body. He covered his right leg with his hands, attempting to keep the fluids from rushing out while he also drained blood from his shoulders and all the way down his arms, peppered with colorful bruises. His shell rested where a tree met the grass, panting as his head began to swim. The ground all around was now soaking in his blood, absorbing his life force and relishing the flavor by the way it swallowed up his precious fluids.

The mutant turtle's face contorted in a searing pain unlike any other. Sure he'd taken hits like this in the past few years, but nothing felt as severe as this. _Damn those dragons,_ Raph hissed to himself silently, throwing his head back as another wave of pain washed over his body, resting it against the bark of the tree. On any other day, he would be sporting his sais, kicking some shell with his brothers, but today he sat alone with only the crickets and some unknown assailants.

He knew the day would be bad the moment he woke up. Hell, the whole week had been bad.

* * *

Raphael roared when he awoke, a large stinking puddle beneath his hammock. He could hear Mikey cackling behind the TV set. In the middle of the night, he snuck into his older brother's room and placed his hand in warm water, resulting in the mess under the hammock. The red clad ninja's eyes seemed to burn with vengeance, "Mikey!" he threw the glass at the wall behind the television, shattering it. It was one of Master Splinter's good drinking glasses, but at this point, that wasn't Raph's main concern.

The next minute or so consisted of Raphael attempting to choke his younger brother with his bare hands, succeeding until another voice could be heard, "Raphael, let go of him at once." the voice was calm and aging. Their Master Splinter stood under the stoop of the doorway, holding his cane to his side, tapping it on the hard floor. The two oldest turtles, Leonardo and Donatello, stood behind their master. Leo's face was unreadable, his arms folded neatly in front of him. Donatello on the other hand had his hand covering his mouth, as if he was afraid of saying anything. No doubt he was making all sorts of calculations in his head; what type of things should be check on their youngest brother for and how he would need to keep an eye on the condition of his throat, things like that.

A much as Raph wanted to continue trying to kill his brother, he forced his hands to unwrap from Mikey's throat and to drop him to the floor with a loud thump, "Master Splinter, he started it." He sputtered quickly, "He came into my room and then he….he put my hand in water… and he…" but he slowly lost his voice, breathing deeply as if in a deep slumber. He was just so exhausted for his own good. He hadn't been sleeping well and he was just flat out tired. Not to mention having to help Casey's mom move into a new farm house a few hours away. Casey had practically begged for the turtles to help, claiming that he and April couldn't possibly get everything by themselves. In the end, Leonardo and Splinter both agreed that it would be beneficial for their family to get out of the city and into the fresh air of the country side. For the last week, Raphael had to do most of the heavy lifting out of his brothers for hours on end for the last few days. Finally, the red clad ninja hung his shoulders and sighed heavily, "Master, I apologies for my behavior." He muttered breathlessly. His blood was close to boiling at this point, but exhaustion won the battle.

Their master smiles, his whiskers twitching slightly in the damp air, "That is better, my son. Now that we are already wide and awake, let us begin the day with a few warm up exercises." And that's what they did for the rest of the morning until noon; they stretched and did pushups and crunches, then they spared each other. Apparently, luck wasn't on Raphael's side today and was paired up with Leo and for lack of better words- got his ass kicked. It wasn't his day today, yet he didn't expect to do as badly as he did. Mikey sat up for a while until Donnie could confirm that he was okay- only minor bruising around his neck. When noon rolled around, Master Splinter received a call from Casey, requesting they travel with him up to his mother's house to help unload all of the furniture and boxes. Splinter agreed after a few moments and told the turtles of their new plans for the next few days, "We are going to travel with Casey and April into the country to his mother's house. She is out of town and will not see us, so there will be no threat to our safety."

Once again, they would be on the road for another three or four hour. Raphael, wanting to blow off some steam, decided to take his precious motorcycle to get some alone time. However, once again luck ruined his plans. Donatello's inventions and tinker toys and gadgets and gizmos had somehow multiplied and spilled over into the garage, crowding Raph's bike. While trying to move some of the junk to make a path, his shell bumped into his motorcycle, knocking it over and puncturing the gas tank. Now, he would have to ride with all of his brothers, in Casey's tiny car.

For the next few hours, yelling ensued mostly from the screamo on the radio and from Donnie, telling Casey how bad it was for their hearing. By now, Raphael was a boiling pot, just waiting to spill over with the slightest tilt. Eventually, the tilt happened when they arrived at Casey's mother's house. It was a little blue farm house with a big covered porch, decorated with a simple rocking chair and to the right of the house with a tiny stable with some sheep and a heavily pregnant goat with impossibly long horns. It sat on a few acres of land, surrounded by the dense wooded area which you could get easily lost in without a GPS or a compass. April and Splinter both arrived a few minutes after them with the moving truck. The all began to unload the truck, Raphael and Casey doing most of the lifting while Leo and April instructed where the boxes would need to be while Mikey, Donnie, and Splinter talked amongst themselves about the ride and how they were certain they would have permanent ear damage because of the music, "And then the music got really loud and I felt like banging my head like this!" Mikey began shaking his head to and fro in an almost violent manner. He then began to stumble from his actions and collided with his red clad brother, knocking him to the ground.

This was the tipping point for Raphael. He was frustrated and angry and tired and he was sick of everything; sick of his brothers and sick of the constant supply of things to be carried, "Mikey!" he boomed, "Get the fuck off me!" his anger and strength seemed to focus into a single arm. He thrust his fist into the side of his younger brother's face, causing him to soar a few feet across the brown, dead grass and into the truck of the tree.

* * *

Raphael could feel himself becoming dizzy now. He was almost certain that their blades were splashed with some type of poison, which he found odd for the Dragons but nevertheless annoying as hell. The pain was coming in waves, washing over his body like an inferno. He broke out into a sweat, panting heavily now; it felt like he was in a furnace being cooked and skewered for supper. Suddenly, he felt himself become tired and slid on the bark of the tree till he was lying on his back, looking at the moonlight from above its branches. Amazingly, he noticed a small brown cricket, rubbing its back legs together as if making music to some unknown tune, the soft moon light casting a slight shadow on its back and illuminating its eyes.

_Great,_ Raphael thought to himself bitterly, _The last thing I'm gonna see is this fucking cricket._ He blinked rapidly as his vision began to blur before he passed out.


	2. Chapter 2

Well, you made it through the first chapter alive! Now let's see what has become of Raphael.

This will be a mature story due to strong language, blood/gore, and suggestive material.

Hope you enjoy it and feel free to comment or fave.

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Raphael felt like he was swimming. Not really him exactly, but it was like his head was swimming, drowning almost. It was as if he was fighting to stay at the only the surface, bobbing in a storm to breath. Slowly, he felt himself open his eyes. He no longer heard the blood rushing through his ears or the pounding of his weakening heart. Maybe he lost all of his blood from the gash in his leg or maybe the Purple Dragons found him and picked him apart with their poisoned blades. However, none proved fact. He still lay in a pool of his own blood, granted he could barley wiggle his toes or see straight, but at least he wasn't dead. Yet.

He could depict the soft crunch of the dead grass not too far from him. And as much as he hated to move at the moment, he knew he had to act fast. With the pace of a slug, the ninja found the strength to push himself up onto the tree in a standing position. Gripping one of the limbs as support, Raph braced for an attack. The footsteps came closer. Closer. Closer to the other side of the tree. He could see it now: a damn Dragon wielding a blade, anticipating for the turtle to be dead or struggling at least. He would be in for a surprise. When he felt the time was right, Raph leapt from the tree, arm drawn back to deliver a punch that would not doubt send the Dragon flying, like what he did with Mikey.

The red clad ninja devised a cunning clan: beat the ever-loving shit out of the Dragon until he cried for mercy.

Because of the blood loss, it was difficult to tell what exactly he was aiming at, yet he knew that this was not one of the Dragons. His fist stopped in mid-punch, hanging in the air like a bird shot out of the sky. In front of him was a girl. Not exactly a human girl, but still a girl. She resembled a tiger; fur covered her entire body, decorating her curves with orange and black stripes, yet she stood upright and had the same basic shape of a human. This girl was slightly shorter than Raphael with long, shapely legs and claws decorating her toes and fingers. Her eyes seemed entirely too large for her face and glowed deep orange with an eerie sense of knowing. Her upper lip was slightly split like that of a feline with long whiskers much like their Master Splinter on her puffy cheeks. She even had the ears of a tiger and only wore a simple cloth to cover her tiny breasts along with her middle and held a clay pot between the pads of her fingers.

The thing that broke Raphael's attention was the classic twig snap maybe a hundred yards from their position. At this point, Raphael couldn't see hardly anything, only bits of color smudged across his vision. Just as he began to feel faint once again, another wave of searing pain struck his insides and made him double over in pain, clutching his sides with his blood-smeared hands. He wheezed softly as his knee pads touched the ground. Tears began to form in the corner of his eyes, but he refused to let himself cry. If he was going to die in front of someone, much less a girl, he would go out strong, not crying like a new born human baby. If there was anything he was most embarrassed about, it would have to be crying. Ever since he was a kid, he hated crying and would rarely succumb to it, even when he was alone.

The tigress looked at him curiously, at first, then knelt down to his level, balancing her weight on the balls of her feet. She put the pot aside and reached for the mutant turtle, touching his left arm. He tried to jerk himself away, but he couldn't seem to get his body to move. It was as if he was paralyzed from the neck down and he hated it; he hated the feeling of being so helpless, not able to do anything against this person. Her touch was soft like her fur, and warm. She lifted up Raphael's arm and moved so the curve of her hip touched the turtle's side. The red clad ninja didn't remember standing up, but it seems that somehow his legs found the strength to stand, supported by the tigress who leaned over slightly to fetch her pot, which she held in one arm, balancing the edge of it on her hip, like a mother did with a child.

As they began to walk, or stumble to say the least, Raphael felt like he would pass out at any time. His head seemed to pass into a stage of unconsciousness then back to reality. After what felt like hours, the turtle felt his body go into overdrive, like his limbs reacted on its own. He could feel the dry, prickly grass beneath his toes and the occasional exposed tree root caused him to stumble over his own feet.

The tigress had to use much of her own strength to lift the mutant turtle when he would slip away. Her arms felt like they were on fire due to the constant flexing and relaxing. The turtle was heavy, but she thought it must have been mostly the shell on his back. Either way, she knew she could not carry him all the way to the village by herself; she would need to either put him down and find help or find a spot to hide until the morning when Gibson would discover her missing and send out a search.

They had been walking for about a mile and the tigress knew there was no way they would make it all the way to the village. She knew of a cave nearby that she used to play in as a child, it would offer the perfect protection against whatever attacked the turtle. They stumbled along for another quarter mile until they happened upon the river bed which had dried up some time ago during the summer. The cave lay just beyond the tree line, shrouded by boulders and shrubs. By the time she pulled the turtle above the first large boulder, he was out cold. The tigress sighed heavily, feeling sweat beading beneath her fur. She sat among the rocks, resting for a few moments before laying the other mutant on his back, pulling on his arms to heave him over the remaining rocks. By the time the tigress made it to the mouth of the cave, the moon was beginning to fade into the brightening sky. Somehow she managed to half drag, half carry Raphael to the back of the cave, propping him up against the wall.

The female mutant got on her knees, leaning close to his face. She then pressed her right ear against the turtle's plastron, listening for a sign that she didn't just drag him up here for no reason. The end of her tail flicked to and fro as she listened. She could hear his heart beating, but she knew that he didn't have much longer; the slash in his leg was no longer bleeding, the skin enflamed and red, swollen around his knee pads. The mutilated flesh was now beginning to turn a deep red, almost black, hanging on with merely a strings worth of meat, dying out as the time went by. Raphael breathed shallowly, struggling as if come invisible force clutched his throat, asphyxiation setting in.

The tigress could feel her gut lurch from the copper smell, yet she could do nothing. She made her way to the mouth of the cave, peaking around the corner. The air was dry tonight and carried an unfamiliar scent. She inhaled softly, not making a sound. She couldn't put her claw on what exactly it was, but she could smell the high levels of testosterone and failed to recognize what or who it was exactly. With a final glance at the nothingness in the forest, she proceeded to sprinkle the water from her pot onto the other mutant, cooling his burning skin. He seemed to sigh with relief and visibly relax his shoulders, slouching against the rocks. She knew she would have to do something about his leg, though. With a swift rip, she removed the cloth around her, leaving her breasts exposed in the air. This would at least clot his leg somewhat, keeping him from losing any more blood than he needed to. The tigress pressed the cloth into the wound, causing Raphael to grunt and stiffen up again. All she could do was hold the cloth into place, humming a lullaby to help soothe turtle and wait for someone to find them.


	3. Chapter 3

So, I'm hoping that this story will last about 50 chapters or so until I finish it. Just to let everyone know, I write these chapters ahead of time before I post them, so if anyone has any ideas about how to perfect the story, say it quickly so I have time to adjust.

This will be a mature story due to strong language, blood/gore, and suggestive material.

Hope you enjoy it and feel free to comment or fave.

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"Take it easy guys; he's starting to wake up." A soft voice penetrated the haze consuming Raphael's mind. He could only assume what had happened after he woke up, still groggy from blood loss. He could tell he was laying on something soft, like cotton or some other fabric. He could hear the crunching of several pairs of feet over stumps and pebbles and the dead grass.

Suddenly, he began to roll to the side, not by his own will, but because something failed to carry his weight correctly. His body lurched with a sudden fall of gravity, until something caught him, "Nice going, you ass! You almost dropped him!" the same voice bellowed. The tigress held the turtle by his upper body, her arms beneath his arm pits. Her tail flicked back and forth furiously. _For heaven's sake,_ she thought to herself.

"What's going on?" Raphael wheezed, his muscles stiff and his jaw nearly set. He still couldn't see straight, but he could see enough to tell that this was a strange sight: Four other "people" surrounded the mutant turtle, helping to maneuver him. They had him on the ground on top of some sort of backboard covered in cloth. One looked very similar to his Master Splinter, but with a smaller snout and dark brown instead of grey, and much younger, "Splinter?" he managed to squeak.

The mouse person gave him a look before shaking his head and turning to the person next to him, who looked like a bird of some king, maybe a hawk with bright red feathers and talons on the tips of his fingers long and sharp. There was also two other people there other than the tigress, a wolf person with an elongated snout and jet black fur covering all over his body and then a sheep person with brown wool covering every inch of his person. What they all had in common were a series of long, jagged scars amongst their bodies.

"Are you okay?" the tigress helped the wolf person to maneuver the turtle onto the back board, giving side instructions.

Raphael wanted to scoff, "Do I look okay to you?" his limbs felt like lead weights with a slight tingling sensation in the tips of his fingers and in his toes. His leg felt like dead meat at this point, stinking up the air and rotting away into nothing but a pile of filth. He looked at her face slightly shadowed by the light. He didn't notice when he first saw her, but now he could see scars. They were everywhere, all over her frame, dragging through her fur, etching and scratching ugliness into her hide, much like the other four mutants.

"My name's Claire." The tigress said, a scar above her upper lip stretched and moved as she spoke, before instructing the four men to lift the back board,. It was difficult because the turtle's shell was rounded and therefore allowed him to roll, but the female kept a hand on Raphael's shoulder, keeping his balance for him, "When we get to camp, a healer will help you and hopefully we can save your leg." She glanced down to the injured limb as it began to fester.

"Raphael." The turtle sighed, every movement of the backboard making his stomach lurch. For the next hour or so, he had to hold in the contents of his stomach as they traveled through the forest; the sun beat down over their heads, causing Raphael to squint his eyes closed for fear of making his head ache any more than it did.

They all stayed relatively quiet, save for the crunching of the dead grass beneath their feet and the rolling of rocks. Claire was the only one who would give any input of their journey, describing the camp and the children and how they were almost there and how it would only be beyond the next set of trees, "I can smell the fires; we're almost there." She smiled slightly at him, showing her rows of sharpened teeth and long canines, "almost there." She repeated, her tail swishing and whiskers twitching.

This time she was right. They had arrived by high noon, Raphael guessed by the heat. Despite this, a small fire in the middle of the camp was brewing, cooking some sort of wild game on a stick. Several tents made of a combination of tree branches and animal skins were erected, reaching about seven or eight feet tall. What amazed him most were all the mutants. They were too covered in scars from head to toe, like Claire, occupying every inch of their bodies. Sever children ran around naked, playing games in the grass and throwing rocks, only to be yelled at by one of the adults to cut it out. The adults were making themselves busy with chores like scrubbing pots with leaves and butchering rabbits, some even make cloth with nothing but string and their hands, humming to themselves.

"Claire's back!" A little boy that resembled a baby bison shouted, pointing to them as they came past the tree line. This caused a chain reaction amongst the children; they all dropped what they were up to and flocked around them. They all seemed excited, but all the movement made Raphael's head pound and his eyes hurt. He groaned, biting his lip out of pure spite.

"Go away, children, we're busy with adult matters!" the tigress had to raise her voice to reach above the shrills of the children. They all "awed" and gave their best innocent eyes and pleaded with her to let them meet the new person they brought, but Claire was having none of it. She shooed them away and instructed the men to bring Raphael to a tent, which they did promptly did.

The tent was small and cozy with a hole in the very top to allow a single beam of light to penetrate the darkness. It was a little stuffy in the tent because of the heat, but Raphael felt like he was in hell, being enveloped by fire. Most of the heat permeated from the gash in his thigh, sizzling silently through the air and making its way up. His breathing became labored and his fingers began to twitch as Claire spoke to the men in a quiet voice, "Please go find Gibson and a healer and have them come here. I'll be fine on my own." She knelt on the soft earth as the men lowered the back board to the ground.

"Are you sure; we know nothing about him." One of the men-Raphael wasn't sure which one- finally spoke up. He was repaid with a nod from the tigress before she pointed a finger to the tent flap, instructing them to hurry.

After they left, Claire busied herself with the mutant turtle. She held up a small bowl from the corner of the tent and brought it to his lips, putting a hand on the back of his head, lifting his head up slightly before tilting the bowl. Raphael drank every last drop of the crisp water, licking his lips when he finished. It cooled him off momentarily before another surge of heat flowed through his body. He groaned, sweating, as Claire rested his head back on the board.

Just as she did, the tent flap reopened and two other mutants entered the tent. It took a few moments for the turtle's eyes to adjust to the sudden shock of light, but now he could clearly see the mutants. One looked almost like an otter with a long, thin tail, his eyes small and dark and brown fur covered him, minus patches of scarred skin. The other mutant was enormous. He was maybe seven or eight feet tall with cloven legs and scales all over his body. His snout was elongated and sharp teeth protruded from his lips, his beady, almost glowing, eyes fixed themselves on Raphael. His fingers and toes, like Claire, were decorated with pointed claws and his long, thick tail dragged behind him.

"This is the one?" The lizard's voice, low and steady made the turtle's ear drums tingle. He sat on the dead grass, reaching for Raphael's wound, lifting the bloody cloth gently. The red clad ninja bit his lip out of pain, growling slightly, "Calm yourself, turtle." He continued to pull at the cloth slowly, "We are here to help." When the lizard pulled the rag free, he put it on the ground and turned to the other mutant, nodding as if to convey some sort of secret message.

The next hour or so consisted of the mutant otter grinding leaves and taking the paste and putting it directly into the wound rubbing it in with small circles. After some time, the paste seemed to numb the pain and preventing Raphael from feeling anything that may have been coming from his leg. After his leg completely numbed, the other mutant produced a needle and what seemed like waxy string from a small pouch on hid hip. He then proceeded to sew the gash in Raphael's leg, making neat, straight stitches in his flesh, using his teeth to break the string with each stitch.

When the otter finished, he gave a small bow to the lizard and then left the tent to rinse his hands. The mutant lizard watched the other man leave before fixing his gaze on the turtle, "Welcome to our camp, stranger. My name is Gibson. I come to the understanding that Claire found you in the forest and wished to have you brought here." He glanced at the tigress, his tongue flicking out from his lips, tasting the air, "You are welcome to stay here until you are healed, then you must move on."

"What?" Claire interjected rather suddenly, "Why does he have to leave?" she leaned her weight onto her hands resting on her knees, leaning towards Gibson, "He'd be much safer here with us." She explained, "The Suites might get him. And with him being a reptile, who knows what might happen?"

The male made a "hmm" sound in the back of his throat, taking a few moments of consideration, "Very well, Claire, he may stay but you _are_ in charge of him." His tongue flicked again, "I'll have no patience with this boy if he has a sour spirit, especially in this drought when the herd is this venerable." With that Gibson stood to his full height, ducking out of the exit.


	4. Chapter 4

This chapter is about how Raphael's brothers and what they are doing while he is off on his little adventure. It's a bit short, but I feel it gets the point across.

This will be a mature story due to strong language, blood/gore, and suggestive material.

Hope you enjoy it and feel free to comment or fave.

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The oven smelt delicious. It contained two pepperoni pizzas just waiting to be devoured. The smell drifted through the air as the turtles talked in one of the bedrooms, unpacking Casey's Mother's clothes. They couldn't wait to finally sit down and eat, but they had to wait until the last bit of clothes were finally put away, which wasn't for another two or three boxes.

They worked together; Leonardo took the clothes out of the boxes and organized them, Donnie sat on the bed, folding them neatly with his nimble fingers and then handed it to Mikey, who put the clothes away into the chest of drawers. They worked in silence, all having their missing brother on their minds. While each had their own opinion about Raphael, they all agreed that they didn't exactly enjoy just sitting around or tidying up the house.

It was around noon so their stomachs growled and moaned, wanting sustenance, yet it would have to wait. The process was the same: Retrieve the clothes, fold the clothes, put up the clothes. Retrieve, fold, put up. Retrieve, fold, put up. Retrieve, fold, put up. Over and over again the brothers repeated this process in silence, until Michelangelo decided to be the first to speak.

"Okay, bros," he shut one of the drawers after filling it, then opening an empty one with a slight creak and scraping of the wood, "Tell me I'm not the only one thinking about Raph." He turned to his brothers, hands by his side. His face still hurt and was swollen slightly from where he'd been punched the day earlier, but he hadn't even hardly noticed after the incident. When Raphael punched him square in the jaw, his head snapped to the side and it felt like something in his head also snapped. Then he blacked out. Donnie told him that he'd flown into the trunk of a tree, but he wasn't sure Raphael could punch _that_ hard. And Donnie being Donnie, he checked out his youngest brother and determined that he was going to be fine with a packet of ice and some Tylenol.

"I'm sure that he'll be fine." Leo replied coolly, emptying another box on the bed. He wrinkled his nose seeing all the hot pink panties and bras, but he should have figured that where there are women, there are women's clothing. Sighing, the blue clad brother handed a stack of Leopard printed panties to Don before moving onto the next pile of unmentionables.

"Jeez, Donnie, I thought you were more of a zebra print kind of gal." Michelangelo smirked then ducked as the stack of underwear went flying into his face. He narrowly missed them and rewarded himself by playfully sticking his tongue out at his brother.

Don's eyes narrowed as he took another stack of underwear from Leo, "You can pick those up by the way." He grinned toothily, "And for the record, I go commando." This made Leo chuckle before he came back around to the previous subject, "Anyway," he began to fold the clothes next to him, "I think Raph will be just fine. He can take care of himself. Plus when he gets hungry, he can either find his own food or just find his way back here." Don nodded, satisfied with his answer. Mikey huffed and began to pick up the panties strewn on the floor.

Leonardo remembered the fit of rage his brother went into, how he punched Mikey and made him fly. He remembered the look in his eyes, how infuriated he'd been and how he snarled, lips drawn back to reveal his teeth, as if a wild animal trapped in a corner, "Mikey," he began to break down the last box, stripping off the tape to make it flat, "If it makes you feel any better, we can go looking for him tomorrow afternoon, after we're done here." He too was worried about Raph, but as the leader, he couldn't show any weakness. He had to remain strong for the sake of his brothers and his Sensei.

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. Master Splinter entered the room, his cane tapping the wooden floor as he walked. After each of the turtles greeted him with a "good afternoon" their sensei spoke, "My sons, I wanted to know how everything was coming along." He eyed the youngest picking up the leopard printed panties from the floor. His eyebrow lifted slightly, but he didn't say anything.

"Everything coming along just fine, Sensei." Leonardo put the flattened box to the side, "We'll be down in a few minutes."

Their master nodded his head, "Good, the pizzas will be getting cold. I will be waiting." He turned and made his way down the hall and to the kitchen.

After a moment, Mickey looked at his oldest brother, "Weren't you going to ask about us looking for Raph?" it seemed oddly out of character for Leo not to ask before doing something, especially when it came to tracking down one of their brothers.

"Well, I figure it can wait." He didn't want to worry their master any more about their safety. It may not have looked like Splinter was worried, but he could sense the strain that Raph had on their father. When they would find him, he would definitely talk to Raph about his behavior and how it was affecting their master' health.

"Alright, Leo, but if we get in trouble for this, I'm blaming you." Don said matter-of-factly, handing the last bit of neatly folded clothing to Mikey, "But for right now, let's go eat: I'm starved."


	5. Chapter 5

Bah! It's been too long! I thank all my readers for being so patient with me: life has been hard lately because of the season, but I managed to finally get this chapter out! I promise that the next chapter will come out shortly in about a week or so.

Now here we are back with Raphael! Hopefully he starts to heal!

This will be a mature story due to strong language, blood/gore, and suggestive material.

Hope you enjoy it and feel free to comment or fave.

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"Uh! I 'm so hungry!" Raphael threw his hands up in the air. Claire left about ten minutes ago to get him something to eat, but he soon grew tired of waiting. He hadn't eaten for an entire day and he frankly didn't like going that long without food. At this point he thought he would eat anything.

He was now sitting up against one of the tent's supports, his legs splayed before him. The healer did a nice job of stitching him up and even gave him some sort of leaves to chew on to dull the pain. However, the leaves did a poor job of keeping him filled and now he was feeling its effects. He couldn't even feel his leg at this point, but as soon as he had proper movement back, he would be out of their and back with his brothers. No doubt they would want to know what he's been up to, but overall, he figured they haven't even noticed his being gone.

"Calm down, boy, I have your food!" The tigress entered the tent, moving the flap of animal skin that acted as the door to the tent. She held a small bowl of strawberries and a loaf of bread along with a cup of water. Claire handed the items to the turtle, who took it gingerly, as if he was afraid it might disappear any second. She then sat with her legs crossed on the prickly grass, watching him devour his meal, not even complaining that there was no meat, "I never got your name, by the way."

The turtle glanced up to her, speaking between bites, "Raphael." He said simply, going back to his food, shoveling the berries into his mouth, not even bothering to hardly chew before taking another bite.

"Raphael." Claire rolled the name on her tongue, getting a feel for the other mutant, "How did you get so injured in the first place?" she'd wondered this to herself, contemplating that it may have been a bear or even a Suit that attempted to capture him. After all, using deadly force to get what they wanted was not uncharacteristic of them.

This made the turtle pause his chewing and slowly place his bowl on the ground, between his legs. His face seemed to contort in uncertainty, as if deciding whether to tell the truth or not. After a moment he sighed heavily, scratching the back of his head under where his mask knotted together, "I got into a fight with my brothers."

This made the tigress gasp slightly, "Your_ brothers_ did this to you?" she almost didn't believe it.

"Well, ya see, we were helping some friends move into a new place and they always kind of expected me to do the heavy lifting and stay up late and practically do almost everything. After about a week of this, I was tired. My brother smacked into me and made me fall over and I sort of went off on him, punching him in the face and all that." He paused again, thinking, "After I punched him I ran off into the forest, just to blow off some steam. It was only about two hours later when something attacked me. I wasn't sure what it was at first, but I figure it was a Purple Dragon or something."

Claire nodded, absorbing all the new information. Although she felt for the turtle, she couldn't help but think that he wasn't telling the whole story, but she didn't press any further than she felt was necessary.

"Now I got some questions for you." Raphael pressed his hands on the ground beside his hips to help himself sit up straighter, then he bent his good leg and rested his hands on his knee, "What are all you mutants doing in the forest and where did you all come from?"

She sighed, knowing that this question would come up sooner or later, but not wanting to review the answer in her mind, "I will tell you, Raphael, but I will not tell it again, for it is bad luck to share this story more than once to a single person." Her voice became firm and serious. She continued when the turtle motioned for her to continue, taking a deep breath, "All whom you see in the village was bred from a laboratory for the specific use of fighting to make their owner's profit. It is similar to dog fighting, but with mutants instead of plain animals. Our owners wouldn't take good care of us and forced us to kill our own, our family, our friends," he swallowed hard, coughing a little, "We escaped from our owner's henchmen, who we call 'Suits' because they only wear black business suits and sunglasses. Personally, I escaped with help from Gibson when I was young and being trained for fighting. He stole me from my crate and brought me here with his congregation of mutants he rescued." She motioned to her contorted flesh, "This is what I sustained from three months of my training. Many have been fighting for years, like many of the men of the village. Because of the torment many of us were put through, several of the mutants might refuse to speak to you."

Raphael was speechless. What could he say now? So instead of saying anything, he reached for a single leaf the healer gave him, extending it out to Claire. He wasn't quite sure why he did this, but something seemed to tell him to, maybe to help dull her pain she seemed to carry like a lead weight, or something like that, he couldn't be certain. This seemed to amuse the tigress, taking the leaf gingerly. When her hand touched the turtles, it was as if a spark of life passed between her to him, consuming his soul, as if only the two of them existed in the whole universe. However, as soon as she moved her hand away, the feeling stopped and she began chewing on the leaf, smiling slightly to herself, like some secret joke was told.

Once again, I apologize for my late timing, but the next chapter should be out by next Monday!


	6. Chapter 6

I actually finished for once! This is a huge accomplishment for me!

This will be a mature story due to strong language, blood/gore, and suggestive material.

Hope you enjoy it and feel free to comment or fave.

* * *

As night fell, Raphael became restless. He was in this stuffy tent all day long, only seeing Claire when she brought him food and water. He could tell that she wasn't much of a talker, but she had her own fierceness about her; the way she walked as if she was stalking an injured animal, the way she spoke with such certainty it would be difficult to change her mind, and the way she looked at you, which the turtle could only compare to a forest fire consuming the hillside with such intensity that you could feel the heat from a mile away. He wasn't entirely sure about the tightness in the pit of his stomach when she entered the tent, the way her hips moves were hypnotic and her delicate fingers seemed to twitch with every movement, as if waiting to strike.

_All right, I've made up my mind_. The turtle thought to himself, using the tent's support pole to hold onto as he pulled himself to his feet. He'd stopped eating the medical leaves and now he was beginning to feel its effects; now he could feel the burning sensation begin to seep into his pores and flow through his veins, but he'd rather feel pain in his limbs than to feel completely numb and risk tripping or, God forbid, he gets attacked again.

It took much gritting of his teeth for Raph to be able to walk, but he knew that he must get back to his brothers. He made his way to the tent entrance, slowly pushing the flap of animal skins back, peaking out at the fire in the center of the village. Currently, he spotted some of the older men of the tribe, maybe four or five, along with Claire and another tigress, but younger and noticeably smaller. The men sat around the fire, not talking, only staring into the fire, while Claire seemed to be crushing up herbs or plants in a bowl with a small, round stone, staining her fur different colors.

_Shit._ The turtle gripped the animal skins tighter as another shot of pain wisped before his eyes, causing him to double over slightly. He still clung to the tent entrance and tugged on it without meaning to. Raph's strength seemed to multiply with each shot of pain and the skins gave way, ripping from its seams with a loud _rip!_ noise. He felt his blood run cold as he felt several pairs of eyes fix their gaze on him. The pelt seemed to flutter with the slight breeze, softly landing on the turtle's bald head and covering his face.

Right then, Raphael wanted to die. His plan to sneak past the other mutants and find his way back to his brothers had obviously failed and now he had to deal with the embarrassment of destroying one of the tents. He could feel his cheeks heat up and now he was grateful that the pelt covered his face. He heard someone stand and make their way across the empty space that separated them and stop in front of him. The animal skin lifted from his head with gentle hands.

Claire greeted him with a bright face, "Good afternoon, Raphael," she seemed to ignore the torn tent entrance all together and dropped the fur behind him, on the ground by his feet, not breaking their gaze, "Would you like to join us?" she didn't give him time to answer and motioned for the turtle to come with her.

What else could he say? No? He didn't know how she would react if he attempted to escape. She may go after him or tell the men. His head seemed to nod on its own, making its own choice without Raph's consent. His legs also moved on their own, following behind Claire, her tail flicking behind her, as if teasing him. The men greeted them with a nod before turning back to the fire, while one of the men, an old red fox, now turning grey around the muzzle, fiddled with a long pipe that looked like something Native Americans would use, pouring a brown powdery substance into the pipe from a small leather bag attached to his hip.

Raph took a seat next to the small tigress. She was younger and like all the children, naked, yet unashamed as she helped Claire grind the leaves and berries with stones. Yet, the nudity didn't seem to move the mutant turtle. While at first he was disturbed at the thought of nude children, the more he thought about it the more he realized that he, too, was naked and it didn't seem to bother anyone, so why should it bother him that other mutants were also naked? While pondering his thoughts, he didn't notice one of the men trying to hand him the pipe until Claire spoke.

"Raphael," he waved her hand in front of his face, "Take the pipe." She pointed with her claw.

It took the ninja a moment to accept the pipe into his hands. It was made of ivory, possibly bone, and carved into by hands, he imagined. It depicted a river flowing with several water creatures trying to escape the clutches of a mutant bear, swiping its paws in an attempt to catch a meal. As Raph brought the pipe to his mouth, he couldn't help but imagine what his brothers and Splinter would be saying to him now. He smirked at the idea that they would now be telling him how bad it was for him, despite the face his mutant healing ability would fix any damage the tobacco would cause. He inhaled deeply and coughed heavily, beating his chest with his fists as the smoke entered his lungs. The other men chuckled and Claire and the little tigress smiled, giggling softly. Raph waved his hands to disperse the smoke expelling from his nose. He couldn't seem to get the smoke out of his body and continued to cough as his eyes began to water. It took a good thirty seconds for the turtle to breathe correctly, all the while, the others watched patiently, waiting for him to finish.

* * *

Well, that's the next chapter. It's not too long, but not too short but it's going somewhere!


	7. Chapter 7

This will be a mature story due to strong language, blood/gore, and suggestive material.

Hope you enjoy it and feel free to comment or fave.

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Needless to say, Raph didn't accept the pipe again. The men were understanding and blew smoke rings into the air, twirling them around their fingers and sometimes blowing it into each other's faces and then saying a chant in their native tongue. Raphael didn't understand what they were doing and busied himself with watching Claire and the child with what they were doing.

Claire had taken an array of colorful berries and separated them by color then proceeded to mash them in a bowl with a rock before adding what appeared to be seasoning from several different little begs made of some sort of animal skins, possibly a Peccary or pig. The mash didn't look particularly appetizing, but he would hate to say so to her face.

Then, she began to speak, "Salt to preserve our culture and way of life," she dropped a pinch of fine white crystals into the blue mashed up berries, "Allspice for luck and healing and good fortune," Claire sprinkled a powdery brown substance on the concoction. She repeated this process with several other spices; heather for rain making, aspen for eloquence, a few drops of a lemon for success, belladonna for astral projection and even pieces of an avocado for beauty. This along with several other ingredients that were too many to count ended up being a dark red color that reminded the turtle of clay.

Claire stood, carrying the bowl stacked high with the new slimy substance that wobbled like jello, and went to Raph, kneeling behind him. The turtle turned to her, confused, "What are ya doing?" Claire responded with shushing him sharply, dipping her hand into the dark mash. She then began painting on his shell, which Raph figured was part of this little ceremony, so he said nothing more.

Claire wanted to make the turtle look especially beautiful so she drew patterns that swirled and flowed with how his shell naturally flowed. She was sure to not use too much, to save some for the other four men, but she couldn't resist using a bit extra on him. Once she finished with his shell, she gave an approving nod and moved onto his arms. She failed to notice just how massive Raphael was for his size- his muscles seemed to bulge even when relaxing and his thighs were the size of tree trunks. She delicately traced the outlining of his flesh with her fingers, painting them red with patterns that looked like animals when she finished. On his right arm she painted a wolf looking towards the moon and on his left arm she painted a bear attempting to catch fish on the top of a waterfall the barley trickled with water. She painted his legs, too and his feet, and she sensed Raphael becoming uncomfortable, stiffening up and tapping his fingers on the ground. She worked more quickly and painted rain and lightning bolts emitting from the clouds near his hips onto the thirsty earth. Claire couldn't even look at his face when she took the pain and splattered it with her fingers onto his upper and lower plastron. She could feel her face heat up beneath her fur, but she couldn't quite tell why she suddenly felt so embarrassed all of a sudden. Finally, she moved onto his face, which she made simple, putting a handprint on both his cheeks as if someone was holding his face and then making a crown of dots circle around his bald head.

The tigress looked at her new creation, satisfied with her work, proud she had the opportunity to make him so beautiful. She didn't have too much time to marvel as she also had to paint on the other men, which she did quickly because she had already painted them so many times before. It only took about twenty minutes total to finish the four men. She then stood before the men, holding the bowl mostly empty between her claws, and spoke, "I thank you, men and boy for allowing me to take part in the hunt." She then bowed low and disappeared into the darkness of the forest, as if she was never there from the start, the smaller tigress running at her heals to keep up.

Raphael could barley register what happened. He was now covered in patters and smelt like different spices, fruity even. He looked at his arms, at the bear and the wolf. His skin felt like it was on fire, not from the goopy substance, but from Claire's touch. She made him feel strange, comfortable even. He felt like he was safe with the tigress. The turtle could feel his heart beating rapidly as his stomach danced to the beat and made his extremities tingle with some sort of sensation he wasn't sure of. He couldn't put his finger on what the feeling was, it was almost as if he was at peace with himself, as if he felt whole as he does when he's by himself, sure of his own character's strengths and flaws.

"Claire gave you very strong patterns." One of the old men, a skunk, although he didn't smell, commented, inhaling the pipe fumes deeply, exhaling the smoke through his nostrils.

"She did?" Raph sounded almost hopeful, looking back down to his arms and legs. He couldn't see his shell, but he remembered the tantalizing fingers that traced the grooves and scars and cracks, slowly, "What do they mean?" he rose his arms slightly to show the men.

They analyzed for merely a moment before coming up with an answer, "Ah," another man, a ferret-like creature leaned closer to Raph, looking at his markings, "The bear hunting fish in the dry riverbed means that you are strong, but you are looking in a place that does not utilize your potential," he pointed next to the wolf, "This wolf is called 'Oro'. It means gold in Spanish, but in our ancestor's language, it means 'He Who Moves like a Shadow'-"

"What does that mean?" Raph interrupted, hungry to know more about what Claire thinks of him.

The old ferret continued, clearing his throat, "It means you are cunning, but you tend to dwell too much in the past. The tracing of your shell means that you are a brave fighter and the hands on your cheeks means that you are cared for." he nodded as if asking the turtle for his approval.

Raph understood the cunning and strong and a brave fighter part all right. Yes, he's been training his entire life for the purpose of fighting and kicking ass, but surly there must be more to him than just being good for fighting. Sure, he could be hot headed at times, or most of the time, but truly, he was more. _How could she not see that?_ He could feel himself becoming frustrated. Well then again, he hadn't been there for more than three days, but he thought he made an okay impression on her. Sure, he whined about being hungry and ripped up one of their tents, but he could start hunting his own food, or fix the tent himself, "What about the dots on my head?" he pointed.

This question seemed to make the old men smile, "She is comparing you to a king." The skunk man said simply, "Whether it is good or bad in not mentioned, although." He wrapped his lips around the pipe and clapped his hands twice, looking at one of the smaller tents make to resemble a teepee. The little tigress poked her head out of the entrance then emerged with a large net over her shoulder. She wobbled slightly from the weight of the items in the net, but she managed.

When she reached the fire, the little tigress reached into the net and began to fish out its contents-instruments. She then handed one to each of the men, handing out what looked like drum made of wood, a gong type instrument made of, ironically, a large turtle shell accompanied by a thick stick with rags tied around the end, and what appeared to be a small pot with animal skin stretch tightly across the opening, held in place with thin strips of leather.

Without a cue, they began to play. The music began softly then grew in intensity. The men's faces were contorted with deep concentration, then the ferret-man sang softly in a foreign tongue that Raphael could only guess was the native language of the mutants, although he hadn't heard them speak this in his time being there.

Raphael could feel himself being moved by the music. Personally, he preferred hard rock or even dubstep if he was in the mood for it, but something about the way they played, the way he sang so softly made the turtle feel at home, as if he could grasp onto a time when nothing mattered, when he had the freedom to do anything at any time. He began to tap his foot to the beat of the gong, the steady, low rhythm that the jaguar-man tapped slowly with the cloth end of the stick.

In the corner of his eye, the turtle could see the little tigress begin to dance with her eyes half closed. She put the palms of her hands against her ears at the top of her head, which must have meant something, and she danced sideways for a short while, then backwards, her tail swishing behind her. She did a graceful movement with her hips. The girl went up on her toes and made a slow turn and danced through the smoke and the fire, the flames and hot coals seemingly not affecting her. Her face had a dreamy look, quiet and composed.

The little thing reminded Raphael of Claire, not only being a mutant tiger, but the sheer grace and beauty seemed to reflect her in every way. The ninja turtle couldn't help but watch her intensely, not wanting to even blink and miss a moment of the dance, her shadow casting on the trees in all directions

"She is drawing out the spirits of the forest," the jaguar-man explained, leaning toward Raphael while still beating on the gong, "to scare the animals out of their hiding. It is especially good luck to have a visitor, such as yourself."

Now he understood. This was a hunting ceremony meant to spook the animals out of hiding and he was a part of it. Suddenly, whooping a yelling could be heard from the forest, coming closer. Raphael's hand instinctively went to his belt, but found no Sais. However, the men continued to play even faster than before, if at all possible.

_What the fuck?_ Raphael stood, ready to fight, even as his leg tingled beneath him and sent shivers down his spine. Then a pack of the mutants emerged from the tree line. They held spears and knives above their heads; cheering and howling like, well, wild animals. Two of the largest men, which appeared to be oxen, carried a thick branch on their shoulders, supporting the weight of two head small bears, a doe, and six or so rabbits, all tied upside down using strips of flexible bark.

It had been a good hunt and now they could reap the rewards. Everyone now came out of their tents, cheering for the men and the spirits, who were generous tonight. Claire sprinted over to Raphael, taking his hands in hers, "Thank you, Raphael, your presence has made the yield of the hunt great."

The ninja couldn't help but turn the same shade of his mask, "It was nothin." He acted like it was no big deal.

"But it is, turtle, it is." Claire bounced on the balls of her feet, "We haven't had a good supply of meat for weeks and now there is enough to feed everyone for some time." She couldn't contain herself now. She was giddy and happy as Raphael had ever seen her.

Maybe being here isn't so bad after all. _I guess I should thank the Purple Dragons, or the Suits or whatever attacked me._


	8. Chapter 8

Well, I worked hard on getting some dialogue in so hopefully this will suffice.

This will be a mature story due to strong language, blood/gore, and suggestive material.

Hope you enjoy it and feel free to comment or fave.

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Raphael yawned and stretched his muscles as he exits the tent. The morning air was crisp and the light filtered through the leaves of the trees, casting shadows on the turtle's face. Already everyone was hard at work, waking hours before he did. The women were busy cooking a breakfast of boiled grubs with rabbit and quail eggs along with fresh berries as the men sharpened sticks using primitive looking knives. Honestly, all the ninja wanted to do was look for Claire. He couldn't take his mind off of her after the way she acted the night before when the men came back with a bountiful feast.

He approached a wolf-woman stirring a pot of boiling insects, "Hey, you know where I can find Claire?" He got straight to the point, not wanting to waste time.

The woman nodded and pointed into the forest, not even looking up, "She's about a quarter mile that way hunting for berries." She said before going back to her duties.

He thanked her before heading out.

He'd never noticed before at just how magnificent this forest was. No beer cans, no tires or garbage strewn all over the place, just pure natural beauty undisturbed by man. Raphael climbed over a fallen tree that was maybe around a hundred years old, judging by its diameter. He couldn't remember the last time he saw something so incredible. In the distance, he could hear birds chirping sweetly to one another, singing songs of love, or of food, whichever. After all, he couldn't speak bird.

"Claire!" he called the tigress, cupping his hands around his mouth, "Where are ya?" He tried to continue walking in a straight line, but it was difficult with the trees looking all the same. Somehow, he managed to keep finding his way back to the fallen log and suddenly, nature didn't seem as appealing anymore; it was getting warm and the bugs liked to buzz around his face, possibly thinking he was just another plant from his green complexion.

"Raphael?" a voice behind him spoke. He turned to find Claire, holding a basket with a few wild berries in it, "What are you doing?"

"Lookin' for you, why else would I be callin' your name?" he didn't mean this to be rude, he genuinely wanted to know what else she would be thinking he was calling her name for, "I've been looking for you for like two hours!" he raised his hands for effect.

Claire smirked, "I've only been gone from the village for ten minutes, maybe fifteen at the most." She smiled, walking past the turtle, her tail flicking behind her, "So what do you need now that you found me?"

Now that Raph had finally found her, all alone with no one else around, he was speechless, "Well, I uh…" he really didn't know what to say so instead he just followed her to wherever she was going. They crossed the dry river bed filled with sharp pointed rocks, which Claire walked over like it was nothing and waited at the other side for her companion to follow. It took some getting used to, but the ninja didn't find it so bad now walking over sharp objects in the forest, he didn't even get a single cut.

"You still haven't given me your answer: of what you need." She knelt down by a bush covered in raspberries and began picking the plump little fruits with her claws to avoid the tiny thorns.

The ninja pondered on what to say. He could ask her about how her day was so far, or how she thought he did at the ceremony yesterday, or how he thought she was beautiful and how he would like to touch her fur and feel how soft he imagined it was. _No_, he shook his head,_ Stick to the basic._ "So, um, your…tits look nice today." Raph slapped his hand over his mouth without even thinking. _Shit, why did you say that? Nice tits? Now she's gonna hurt you!_ He braced himself for an attack by the fierce feline, but none came.

She merely, stopped and looked at him, her eyes full of questions and continued doing what she was doing, "I'll pretend I didn't hear that." She dropped a handful of berries into the basket, "But thanks: breasts are a sign of womanhood, so I will choose to take that as a compliment."

Raphael sighed, mentally giving himself a high five for dodging a bullet and knelt down next to her and started helping her pick the berries. They worked in silence, only the birds making any sound besides the light breeze that made the leaves rustle slightly. This continued until the bush was mostly fruitless and then they moved onto the next one.

"Anyway," Claire cleared her throat, "Other than my tits, what do you want to talk about?" Getting no response from the turtle that was still too nervous about messing up again, she continued, "Okay, I'll start: tell me about your family; your brothers who you spoke of before and your parents."

_Alright, Raph, you can't mess _them_ up too badly,_ "I have three brothers. Mikey is the youngest out of the four of us. He's a goofball and he does a whole lot of nothing if you let him. Other than that, he reads comic books all the time and plays video games like there's no tomorrow. Donnie is older than me, but not the oldest. He's a tech wiz and spends most of his time in his room or in his lab, inventing stuff like a nerd." He gritted his teeth, "And then there's Leo. He's a smug, no good, son of a bitch who thinks he's better than anyone else. He's the _'leader'_ of us, but I will never take another order from him ever again." He crushed the berry in between his fingers and let the red juices flow and drip onto the dead grass, "I hate him." He stated flatly.

Claire glanced at him. His face was contorted with rage like she's never seen it before. Surly he couldn't hate his own flesh and blood that much, "What about your parents?"

He scoffed, "My dad's an old rat and my ma's a radioactive pile of ooze; what's your story?" he spat out.

It was obvious that he held bitterness in his heart, but the tigress wasn't sure just how deeply it ran. Not wanting to provoke him any further, Claire spoke, "I never met my parents." She said simply, "They were kept in a compound for breeding mutants for the humans. Once I was born, they took me away and raised me by hand, teaching me to hate other mutants and be willing to attack on command." She paused to see Raph's reaction. It was less angry and more concerned than anything, "It was only when I was about four and three months into rigorous training by the suits that Gibson saved me from my tormentors." Her voice became dark, "Those murderers deserve every bite and punch that Gibson gave them. They nearly killed him too."

"Don't you think that Gibson was a little excessive?" Raph wiped his hand on his knee pads to clear away some of the juice from the fruit, "I mean, did he really have to go through and hurt all those humans?" he thought for another moment, "I was always taught to fight as a last resort, is what I'm sayin'."

Suddenly, Claire stood, her fists clenched at her sides, her eyes wide, "You don't understand, do you?" she whispered.

Raphael stood also, slowly, "Look, I didn't mean nothin' by it, it was just a thought." He could almost feel that negative energy rolling off the tigress's shoulders.

"I _hate_ humans." Claire began to take steps towards the ninja, causing him to take a step back with every step forward she took, "What they've done is unforgivable: They would pit mutant against mutant together, and bid on which would be the victor and they continue to do so as I speak." She stopped walking and looked at the turtle directly in his face, "Have you not noticed how Gibson is the only other reptile here?"

Now that she mentioned it, he hadn't noticed. All the other mutants were either mammals or avian the more he thought about it.

Her voice rose in intensity, "It's because they were the most valuable of all the mutants; the most formidable opponents, some even being venomous like Gibson. All were hunted down and forced to fight to the death and if they refused to fight, they were given drugs to make them _want_ to fight. It would force them to use their animal instincts to slaughter one another." She began sobbing, "There was so much blood." Her mind began racing. Her breaths became shallow as she had a memory.

* * *

_The crowd cheered, frantic at the current match. One of the mutants fighting was a bear and high on cocaine and couldn't help but sneeze constantly and stamp his feet because they forced him to inhale it. His opponent was another bear, also high on a drug. As soon as they saw one another they went berserk. They roared and bit and clawed, tearing off limbs and eating the flesh. _

_Claire cried from her crate. Her owner brought her down close to the dirt arena to have her watch and learn, "You see that?" he pointed to the victor bear, devouring the other. "That is what you shall do one day and you will make me a fortune."_

* * *

"They nearly killed Gibson that day he took me: one of the feral mutants woke up and began roaring, waking up the humans, including my owner. They released a lion mutant that was still high from its recent battle and they fought. The only reason that we're still alive is that because the drugs were snorted, the lion had no sense of smell and couldn't find us hiding." She took a shuttering breath, "I pledged from that day forward to never trust a human again." She raised he hand to prove her point.

"Wow, that's a… lot to take in, Claire." There was no way that he could mention anything about Casey and April now, not to mention the fact that they live in the City. He felt sorry for her, but more than that, he felt the need to apologize, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" the tigress wiper her tears with her thumb, "You're not the one who forced us to fight for our lives."

"No, but I feel like a jerk now." He didn't know exactly what to say. After all, it wasn't in his nature to apologize, "I was ranting on about my brothers and how much they bug me with their habits when I had no idea just how much your people have been through."

Claire smiled through her sad memories, "Thank you, Raphael." She sniffed, "Now I know why I wanted to give you the crown of spots for the ceremony: because kings should know when to be humble."

They didn't speak for some time as they traveled back towards the village, Raph carrying the full basket. Just then, he spotted something in the corner of his eye. A small rabbit about the size of a squirrel munched happily on a blade of grass, not noticing their presence. They were about ten, fifteen feet away and just out of earshot.

"Hey, bet you I can catch that rabbit." He wanted to cheer her up after she got so worked up about her past. Before she could get in a word, he casually tossed the basket at Claire, who nearly dropped it, bounded toward the animal, not making a sound other than the soft groaning of the grass beneath his feet.

"Stop!" Claire shouted, dropping her basket and spilling the berries over the ground. The rabbit, scared and now aware they were watching it, used all the power in its little legs and big feet to run away, nearly being caught by the ninja turtle.

"Aww, I almost had it!" Raph turned to Claire, "What did ya do that for?" he made his way over to her, raising his hands in question.

Claire dropped to her knees, gathering the fruit that she dropped, "Only men are allowed to hunt- you are merely a boy, Raphael."

He stood there for a second before asking the question, "A boy?" he could feel bile rising in his throat. Did she really just call him a boy? He's saved the city countless times, traveled through time and space, and has been through different dimensions, all to be called a boy by another mutant? "No, see, that's where you're wrong; I _am_ a man. I've fought all over the place and saved tons of lives and you have the nerve to call me a _boy_? I'm offended." He said simply, crossing his arm.

"Yes, a boy," she stood, having gathered all her berries, "Because you have not been through the rite of passage yet. Once you complete that, then you will have the honor of being called a man, and being able to hunt, and have a _mate._" She emphasized her last word, walking away while swishing her hips as if to prove a point."

Raph sputtered, rolling his eyes, "Okay then, Claire, what do I have to do to have the 'honor of being called a man'?" he followed close behind her.

Claire answered, "I can't tell you specifically what you must do, but I will tell you this," they crossed the dry river bed, the sun barely peaking over the tops of the trees as the days grew shorter, "Go to Gibson tomorrow morning and he will get the ceremony ready for you and other boys who wish to become men. Then, everyone will see what you are really made of."


	9. Chapter 9

Hope you enjoy it and feel free to comment or fave.

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This morning was much like the previous: Raphael woke up late and the village was already booming with activity. He cursed quietly, swearing that he'd get up earlier next time. H stretched his arms then rolled his shoulders, sighing. He wasn't nervous, he couldn't be. He was Raphael, a time traveler and galaxy hopper and a fiery fighter. Being nervous wasn't something he was known for, yet it was as if a rock sat in the pit of his stomach.

He marched straight past the women cooking and the children that called for him to come play with the inflated bear stomach they called a ball. Gibson sat next to his tent, smoking from a pipe and speaking with another man, an aye aye. The other man seemed in distress, his huge eyes constantly rolling to the sides, as if looking for escape. The ninja turtle stood a few feet away, tapping his foot impatiently, making it obvious that he need to get in a word. As it turned out, the aye aye man suspected of his wife sleeping with another man and wanted to know how he could know for sure if she really was or not.

Gibson nodded, listening closely. The devil dragon tapped the mouth of the pipe against his temple, keeping his head bent low in thought. His tail thumped on the ground as he spoke, kicking up dust particles and dirt, "Go find five Kaska Berries, each from a different bush. Let them sit in water for one hour then bring them back to me so I may bless them. Tonight, give them to your wife and have her eat them. If she remains in good health, she is innocent of adultery. However, if she is to get chills and a fever, she is guilty. If you wish to let her suffer her fate, leave her be, but if you wish to forgive her, give her a single berry picked no more than a half hour before, and she will be well." He sucked in a deep breath from his pipe and blew a single ring, letting it disappear into the air.

The other man thanked Gibson and left to do the task. The lizard turned his head to Raph, patting the ground beside him as a motion for the ninja to sit, which he did, "I want to become a man." Raph got straight to the point, "I want to go through the rite of passage or ceremony or whatever you guys do." He didn't stop when the children began to notice their conversation, "I don't care what it is, I'll do it."

Gibson didn't make eye contact with him, simply turning the pipe upside down as he tapped the ashes into his palm before dropping it on the ground beside him, "If you wish to become a man, you will face a difficult challenge that you must overcome with the other boys. Are you certain you want to do it?"

Raph didn't even think, but only blurted out his answer, leaning towards Gibson, "Yes, whatever it takes." He spoke quickly. At this point he could only think of one thing: becoming a man in Claire's eyes. He didn't care if they tied him to an ant bed and let the ants feed off of him for an hour; he wouldn't care if the Shredder himself challenged him to a fight. Nothing would stand in his way.

The lizard pondered on this for a moment before standing, "If you wish to become a man, you will need to accomplish the rite of passage. I will gather the other boys and us all meet at sundown. Meanwhile, spread the word and help the women prepare for the ceremony."

For the next half hour, the ninja turtle told every mutant he could find in the village of the coming of age ceremony. He was so excited that he could hardly contain himself. Finally, Claire would see him no longer as a child, but as a man. His excitement stopped when he told some men skinning a few rabbits and laying them out in the sun.

"What are you getting so excited about?" a beaver mutant asked, placing the rabbit's innards into a clay pot for stew later in the day, "Nobody ever looks forward to the ceremony." The other men nodded in agreement.

This made Raphael pause, "What do you mean?" He knew that he would have to do some type of a test, but surly it couldn't be that hard, right?

"We are not allowed to say. But we will warn you that it is not something so get excited about." The other men said no more and went back to their duties.

Suddenly, the ninja turtle wasn't so certain about the ceremony anymore. He didn't even think of what could be so horrible that they're not allowed to talk about it. If he only had internet out here, he could look up some rite of passage stuff. He tried not to think too hard about it and did as Gibson instructed him to do earlier: help the women.

"So you are the one who I've heard of getting so enthusiastic about the ceremony?" one of the older women, a badger, used a knife to carve a sapling into thin strips.

"Yes, I know." Raph rolled his eyes, watching as the women worked, waiting to be told where he was needed.

"You know, my son is going to be in the ceremony." The woman continued, as if not hearing him, "His name is Seraph. He's a nice boy, but I'm not sure how he will handle the ceremony."

Maybe he could squeeze some answers out of her, "So what are they going to do to us anyway? I mean, I'm going in kind of blind here." He was handed a sapling and a carving knife before instructed to take all of the bark off. Raph grumbled to himself and sat next to the badger woman.

The woman smiled, gathering the shavings from the sapling she was just working on, "Your guess is as good as mine; women aren't allowed to watch the ceremony."

"Really?" The turtle looked at his reflection in the knife. He was surprised it was stainless steel and even said 'Made in the USA' and not a homemade tool like everything else here, but he didn't ask. He was more worried about what the ceremony entailed for him, "Why's that?"

"It's just the way we do things." She said nothing more and made her way to a nearby fire with a pot of water standing in the hot coals. The woman scattered the shavings onto the coals, keeping them burning.

The women seemed to know what they were doing as they worked vigorously. They would take the young tree and take all the bark off before whittling the wood down to the thickness of a pencil. Then with Raph's help, they would steam the saplings over a pot of boiling pot until they became flexible enough to bend. Next they instructed the turtle to hold the saplings into place so they bent slightly. He did this until they cooled and held the shape.

They spent a good two hours doing this and eventually had eight lengths of wood, about three feet long and slightly curled. Next came the food, which was delivered by Claire. She came with a large basket filled to the brim with meat and berries and vegetables of all colors. She smiled at the ninja, but said nothing. A certain sadness seemed to overcome her after their talk the previous day. All the memories came flooding back to her. All the fights, all the blood and the flying organs filled her dreams. She knew it was not the turtle's fault, but she couldn't help to be more cautious around him, "Good afternoon, Raphael." That didn't mean she couldn't try to be friendly, "I heard the news and I hope you do well at the ceremony."

He smirked, standing in front of the tigress, "Of course I'm gonna do well. Hell, I'm gonna do great!" He took the basket from Claire, putting it on the ground beside them, all without breaking eye contact, and took her hands in his, "I'm doing this for you, Claire. I just want you to know that." He could feel his stomach churn at the thought that now it was him that was being all emotional, "I want you to see me as a man, not a boy."

The tigress smiled once again, "Oh, Raph, you're sweet, but you do know that things will change for you when you become a man, right?" she could feel his grip tighten, "You won't be having so much downtime and you'll have to work and hunt and even put your life on the line for the sake of the village, and-" she added in a low whisper, "You'll be able to take a bride."

"Claire, nothing would make me happier to work in this village with all these amazing people," he corrected himself after a second, "mutants. And anyway, I put my life on the line every damn day when I lived with my brothers and Sensei." Just speaking of them left a strange taste in his mouth. Sure, he missed them to a certain degree, but living here for a little while made him begin to feel differently about the world; he didn't need New York and all the crime and trash. He's been able to get along just fine here, with these mutants. Such a simple way of life seemed to be calling him and the only person he thought about since he got here was Claire, and he would hate to leave her behind.

* * *

Finally, night fell on the village, consuming everything in darkness. The women and children were all miles away at the watering hole with two men to watch over them. Only a hush lay over the other men present. Total, only three other boys were willing to take on the challenges of manhood; one was a black bear mutant with long claws on his fingertips and sharp teeth protruding from his lips. He was strong in stature, but had more fat on him than the other two boys. The next boy was a wolf. He was pure white with smokey grey patches around his eyes. His ears constantly flickered back and forth, listening. The last boy was more timid looking; a badger with a pink nose and black and white stripes going from his snout to the back of his head.

The four of them were painted with white clay, not in any patters of any kind, just covered from head to toe. These other boys were naked, just like the turtle was, but they showed no shame. A raging fire was going on in the middle of the camp, casting shadows on the men and boys. The boys were sitting in a line before Gibson, who held the sapling Raph helped carve earlier, in his hand, "Gentlemen," he turned on his heels to face the men, the fire casting a shadow on his front and making him look bigger than he was, "Tonight, these boys will wake up tomorrow, no longer boys, but as men." The mutants cheered, raising their fists in the air. Gibson held up a hand to quiet them, "But first we must give them a Blood Lilly flower and let them eat it, to widen their throats for what is about to come."

Raph couldn't help but feel nervous, but at the same time, rejuvenated. Finally, he would prove to everyone, and himself that he was worthy of being called a man. One of the men held four small purple flowers with white dots on the petals in his claws. He gave each of the boys one flower, which the boy would then put in his mouth, before the other men would say a chant, not in English, stomping their feet.

The ninja was at the end of the line, waiting his turn. He could feel his hands shaking with adrenaline. He almost felt like he wanted to jump out of his shell and do a victory dance, but he didn't think that would be appropriate. _If only my brothers could see me now_. Just as that thought came into his mind, he could see a reflection of light in the corner of his eye, to his left. He turned to see what it was as the men chanted for the wolf mutant. It looked familiar somehow. It looked kind of like… Katana blades?


	10. Chapter 10

Hope you enjoy it and feel free to comment or fave.

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"Leo!" The red clad ninja whispered to his left harshly. He looked back to the men, making sure that they couldn't see him talking to his brother hiding in the foliage. To Raph's relief, they were too busy with the ceremony, "If you screw this up for me, I'll make you regret it." He could see the katana blades' reflection disappear, as if sheathed.

He almost didn't notice when Gibson came over to him, holding out the little flower. Raph opened his mouth and accepted the plant onto his tongue. He chewed it, the sourness made his face contort slightly, but it wasn't so bad.

Then a large panther-like mutant with long whiskers and yellow eyes took two branches from Gibson and held them out in front on him, one in each hand, "To become men, you must first purge yourselves of the influences of the humans, to detach yourselves from the world and become one with our clan." He tilted his head back and lifted the two thin sticks, opening his mouth. What happened next horrified the turtle. He actually put the sticks down his throat! The panther choked slightly, but he continued to push the sticks into his throat even further. His hands began to shake slightly, but this caused the mutant to try and shove the sticks into his throat even faster- to alleviate the discomfort. Once the sticks had touched the pit of his stomach, the panther paused before pulling them back out, which was a good two feet of the flexible wood. Blood and mucus coated the sticks as he pulled them out, gagging as he did so, "This is the blood of our kind, now purged, which the humans have spilt with such malice that they have the audacity to have us kill each other." He held the two sticks out to Seraph, the Badger mutant.

The young mutant hesitated before gently taking the slimy sticks with his claws. It was obvious that he was now thinking twice about his decision to become a man. He stared at the flexible wood, his eyes shining in the light of the fire, before tilting his head back and guiding them into his mouth.

* * *

Leonardo didn't like the looks of this, not one bit at all. He watched carefully from the safety of a hedge of bushes, the darkness concealing Mikey and Donnie, and of course, Casey, who insisted on helping to look for their missing brother.

The blue clad ninja kept his breathing shallow so the other mutants wouldn't hear him. His heart pounded in his ears as his blood pulsated through his veins, becoming faster with each passing second. It appeared to be some sort of initiation from the looks of it, but Leo couldn't be too certain. He could see from this angle the long, jagged and bumpy scar that ran along his younger brother's thigh. It looked nearly healed, but still fresh and turning pink around the edges._ Did they do this to him?_ However, knowing Raph, he would have fought off the mutants if they tried to do any harm to him, yet there he sat, looking content with what was happening, if not a little annoyed that his brothers were here.

"Damn, that must hurt." Casey Jones watched as the mutant began to aspirate, constantly having to reposition the sticks to not go down his windpipe. He gripped his hockey stick tighter, itching for a fight. If these goons took his friend, he would do anything to get him back, even take a life.

Mikey gasped slightly, coming to a sudden realization, "Is Raph going to have to do that? The thing with the sticks?"

The purple clad turtle responded quietly, Bo staff at the ready, "I hope not; he could seriously damage his throat and even pierce his lungs." They all knew this, but the genius was the only one willing to say it out loud.

"Well, we gotta do something." The human began to stand, almost giving away their position just as the badger mutant finally touched the pit of his stomach with the sticks. His fur on his cheeks was streaked with tears and bright blood dripped from his teeth. He was sniffing and shaking as he began to pull the sticks from his stomach, "I don't want Raph to have to do that."

The oldest turtle was quick to pull Casey back down into their hiding spot, "Calm down, Casey. We should just wait for a second and think of a plan before we do anything rash." He didn't dare say it, but he thought that maybe Raph wanted to be there; maybe he wanted to do this bizarre ritual. Leo studied Raph's face. He seemed determined to do this strange initiation, his leg bouncing as he sat Indian style next to the bear and the wolf. He knew he would have to tall his brothers of his thoughts, "Guys, maybe he wants to do this."

Donnie and Casey looked at the blue ninja in disbelief, if not annoyance, "You can't be serious." They both said flatly, at the same time.

"No," Leo shook his head, looking up to his companions, "I mean it. Maybe-" suddenly, he noticed something seemed to be missing. He looked to Donnie and then Casey, then to an empty patch of earth where their youngest brother had been merely second before.

Raph could hardly contain himself when Seraph pulled the sticks from his mouth, coughing and spitting out his own blood and bile. His legs became weak and he began to wobble, his tail swishing to try and retain balance. The other men, however, didn't seem to notice. The panther mutant took the mucus covered sticks from the badger and held them out to the three remaining boys, "Who will be next to purge their souls?" he asked, his eyes glowing in the light of the fire.

The turtle knew he had to be next, to reassure the men that although he was an outsider, he was strong and willing to participate in their customs. He stood to his feet, the scar running along his thigh only gave him a twinge of pain, but he ignored it, not willing to show any sort of hesitation to the men, or to the other boys; he didn't want them thinking he was a weakling.

He stood, holding out his hands to accept what was about to happen, but things didn't go the way he planned.

A battle cry erupted from the nearby trees, but not where Raph recalled his brothers being, "Cowabunga!"

_Mikey._

Just as the red ninja though, his youngest orange brother burst from the trees, landing between him and the panther mutant, "You stay away from my brother!" he spun his nun chucks in his hands, his eyes wild with adrenaline.

Gibson approached, calm as ever, up to the frantic turtle, "Who dares interrupt the sanctity of our home?" His voice rumbled in his chest. A hissing noise came from his nostrils, but Raph doubted that he even knew he was doing it, just letting his instincts take over.

No, this couldn't be happening. After all he did, Mikey was going to ruin everything. Raph thought fast. He lashed out at Mikey and did a bear hug from behind. The little brother froze in confusion, nun chucks still spinning, "What are you doing?"

The red ninja used his strength to lift Mikey off the ground and tossed him into a nearby tree. He couldn't help but think of when he punched his brother into a tree nearly a week, or a few weeks ago, he wasn't sure, as he heard the thump of Mikey's shell making contact with the tree.

Donnie emerged from the shadows, helping his fallen brother to his feet, while Leo also came from the foliage, katanas drawn at the ready. Casey also came from the shadows, wearing his signature hockey mask, although it wasn't like any of the mutants would recognize him anyway, wielding two golf clubs in either hand. His presence seemed to have the most effect on the mutants. Some began snarling or hissing or even barking or howling at the sight of him. Even calm, collected Gibson began to foam at the mouth from the sight of a human, his bacteria-filled saliva dripping from his lips.

Now Raph was just plain angry, as angry as he's ever been. His nostrils flared and he hunched over slightly, wanting to hiss and growl himself, "Leo, what the fuck are you doing?" his voice dripped with malice. Why did is brother have to ruin everything good that ever came his way? He couldn't do anything anymore without Splinter Junior having something to say about it.

This made the oldest brother lower his weapons slightly, but before he could speak, Donnie interjected, "We're saving you. You've been gone for almost two weeks and all you can say is 'what the fuck are we doing here'?"

"Yeah, that's exactly what I'm sayin'." Raphael clenched his fists at his side, "What are you doing here?"  
He repeated, this time more calm.

It was obvious to Leo now that his brother had drastically changed. Something was different, he knew as he slowly put away his katanas, standing up straight. He met the eyes of the other mutants. They were equally furious and continued to protest with animal noises and fierce howling. Leo knew he would have to be cautious. He had a feeling that if one of the mutants attacked them, Raph wouldn't help, "Raph, we are here to help you get home."

"I am home, Leonardo." Raph scowled.

"No, Raph, you're not. I mean back in New York with Donnie and Mikey, and April and Casey and Master Splinter." He took a deep breath, "Have you forgotten your duty to our family?"

Raph shook his head. He'd thought about his family a lot when he was helping the women make the sticks to shove down their throats. He thought of how they would react if they ever found him and saw him there. He knew they would not approve, but he couldn't help but feel right at home there, in the middle of the forest, with all these mutants. They knew nothing of his fiery temper, or all of his mistakes he ever made. He could have begun a new life here, one where he could be happy with Claire forever, but of course, Leo had to ruin it for him, "You're so smug, ya know that? You always think you're above me, always better than me, no matter how hard I try, no matter how hard I work." At this point, Raph's fists loosened. He could feel his body grow numb.

"What?" Leo never heard him speak like this before, "What are you talking about?"

"Shut the hell up, Splinter Junior, I was talking." He didn't give his older brother time to respond before continuing, "I was in the process of becoming a man. A _man_, Leo." He paused, looking down to the dirt by his feet, "Why do you always ruin everything? Any time I wish to better myself, you always interfere."

Mikey spoke once more, "That's a lie!" He stumbled to get his footing, still out of breath from having the wind knocked out of him, "Leo wants to do nothing but help you and our family."

"Mikey, I didn't ask for your opinion, so shut up." Raph snapped, "You've always called me a hot head and irresponsible and now that I want to change that, you try and stop me. You claim you never felt like that because you never listen. You've always been Splinter's favorite." He could feel malice in his voice thicken with each word he uttered, "He always loved you more than me. You don't think what it's like to be loved the least out of the family." He could feel his eyes begin to water with rage and soon tears make their paths down his cheeks, "Sometimes I think there's this wall between me an' everyone else." He never shared these feelings before with anyone else and now that everything flowed out of him, he didn't know what to feel. He didn't even know what to think as his body became more and more numb, as if he was having an out-of-body experience.

Now since was the loudest thing to be heard as everyone processed the new information. Gibson was the first to speak, "If you all are through speaking, we will continue with the ceremony," He glared at the intruders, Casey especially. Before taking the sticks from the panther mutant and holding them out to Raph.


	11. Chapter 11

Wow, this chapter was hard to write. Hey, guys! Yes, I'm still alive and kicking, just been really busy over the past 3 months with school and family. I will now work on the next chapter of Syndrome, if anyone wants to read that.

Hope you enjoy it and feel free to comment or fave.

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The red clan ninja didn't have to think twice about his turn to participate in the ceremony. He took the sticks from the panther mutant and took a moment to glance at his oldest brother. His expression was calm, yet his eyes were wide and his forehead shone with sweat. His other brothers and Casey were equally shocked, watching as if they didn't really believed Raph would do such a thing.

Raphael tilted his head to face moonless night before guiding the sticks to his mouth. The wood scraped painfully against his insides and he could actually feel the ends slicing into his tender esophagus. He could feel the thick blood draining from the inside of his throat, burning and making him cough. He tried the same technique the panther mutant did and just continued to shove the sticks down his throat, inch by grueling inch. He wasn't sure exactly how far down it was supposed to go, but he kept pushing himself until he felt something in his gut painfully stretch beyond what it was supposed to. With a swift movement, the turtle completely pulled the sticks from his body, leaning over while he gagged and spit out his own blood, leaving a little puddle between his feet.

He felt light headed and his throat burned uncontrollably. He felt his knees grow weak and began to stumble while trying to keep his footing. In a flash, two of the men were at his side, guiding him to the earth and having him sit up. Now the turtle sat next to the badger mutant who was still attempting to regain his strength. As for the bear and wolf mutant, they each had next to no difficulty completing this phase of their test, not even having to sit down and take a breather.

Once that was finished, Gibson looked to the panther mutant, nodding to him, "Bring the Asherah poles and drive them into the ground." As soon as he said this, the men jogged into the tree line and brought forth two thick logs about seven feet tall and three feet around with carvings in them similar to what Claire painted on Raph and the other men during the hunting ceremony. The men with claws dug into the tough earth and in about ten minutes made two holes six feet from each other. It took five men to carry one of the poles and put the dirty end in the ground, fill back in the hole, and then do the next one. Finally, a hawk mutant whose wings on its back were permanently mutilated due to the humans making him fight, brought forth two long lengths of rope, tying one rope to the top of one of the poles, letting the end be free, before doing the same with the other rope and pole.

"Now that you have all successfully purged your souls of human influence, we must cleanse your body of the influence of woman, by spilling your tainted blood." With that, Gibson and the panther mutant produced two thick, leather whips with long lengths of tassel wrapped around stinging nettle at the end, "Who shall be the first?"

Each of the boys hesitated for a moment, eyes darting to one another to see who the first shall be. Naturally, Raphael stood to his feet, wobbling slightly from his previous test. He needed to be strong and let his brothers and Casey see that he no longer wanted to be known as a hothead and a fool. No, he was strong and passionate and deserved respect. What he did next truly said his feelings about his brothers. He stood by the fire raging, reaching for the empty sky. The turtle untied his mask and held it in both hands, feeling the worn fabric between his fingers. With a final breath, he tossed the mask into the flames, finalizing where he truly wanted to be.

Leo scowled at his brother, a pang of betrayal sinking in. This was exactly like Raph; bottling up his emotions until they exploded. He'd warned his red masked brother about sharing their feelings with one another years ago, but Raph wasn't having any of it, not then, not now. He looked to his remaining brothers, "I don't think we're getting him out of this." With that, he sat with his legs under him on the ground, ducking his head, a sign of submission and respect.

"The fucks are you doing?" Casey Jones waved his golf clubs, pointing to Raph as the men began to bind his hands with the ropes, lifting his up so he stood on his toes and fighting to not strain his wrists, "Do you not see that they are about to beat the shit out of your brother?" The human demanded an answer.

The oldest turtle opened one eye to look at him. His gaze was sharp and steely with a hint of annoyance, "Show some respect to the village and maybe they won't attack." Just as he predicted, some of the mutants stopped howling at them and wiped away the foam that began to form on their lips, preferring to just simply ignore them all together. However, few of the younger men continued to bark and snarl and roar, taking a step forward.

Donnie whispered to himself, "At least he's going first, lessoning the chance of blood-borne pathogens." He held his Bo staff in front of him, his knuckles white-as if he was afraid he would drop it and loose his chances of life all together. He too took a seat on the ground, putting his weapon behind him, before bowing his head. It was obvious to them all now that Raph had no intention of allowing himself to be rescued, and he had to respect his decision.

Mikey, not knowing what to do, also took a seat and lowered his head. Casey on the other hand, held his ground with his golf clubs in front of him, ready if any of the mutants still snarling at him would attack.

That is when the second phase of the test began. Gibson and the panther mutant began to beat the turtle with their whips, the leather snapping against his skin. Raph couldn't help but gasp when the first whip made contact with his side. He could feel a red welt forming along the tender flesh, along with a thin line of blood began to drip from flesh. They hit again and again in the almost exact same spots before moving onto another, unmarked part of the ninja. Raph's eyes widened with each blow as the stinging nettle made him itch, twitching at the sensation. Because his back was covered by his shell, the men focused on the turtle's legs and chest and sides, striking the same spots over and over again without remorse.

They knew that this was the only way to allow the infection of women to pass from his body. Women were beautiful, yet soft and weak. They could not be trusted on the battlefield due to their emotions. Men needed to be hard and unwilling to let their feelings get in the way of what needs to be done.

Raph's muscles tensed with each blow, pulling at his restrains. This was a natural body reaction for anyone, to recoil in such a situation. His vision was constantly streaked with white as each blow struck his body. The last thing he saw before shutting his eyes again was one of the whips flying straight for his eyes. Then, he heard Donnie yell and Mikey gasp and Leo scream his name. He couldn't see. He couldn't see. He was able to just a second ago. He blinked rapidly as some of his vision began to resurface, but only in his right eye. Raph could feel fluids begin to run down his cheek where his left eye was a moment ago.

Now the men franticly began to untie the red clad ninja, speaking feverishly in a different tongue. Some of the other men began to even yell at each other, pointing fingers-or claws- at the mutant with the whip covered in new fluids.

Donnie jumped to his feet and sprinted to the scene where Raph stood, barely able to stand on his own, his hand to his eye socket, feeling for something- anything that would indicate where his eyeball was, but all he felt was a gaping hole filled with tissue and air. He felt as if there was a monstrous weight on his chest, but his arms were weak so he would not be able to lift it, "My eye." He wheezed, not able to breathe. His appendages began to shake.

His purple clad brother shoved past the other men surrounding Raph, "I have medical training!" He bellowed. When he finally reached his brother, he already had in his head what to do. _Obviously, if we were in a more sterile condition I might be able to save his eye, but there is no telling just how clean these mutants are. They probably already stepped on it anyway. _Raphael was now sitting on the ground, another mutant helping him to sit up.

"You are a medicine man?" The mutant asked, skeptical. At this point, Raphael was feeling his head spin and ache. He was still fingering his face, unwilling to let the thought of losing his eye enter into his mind, yet he knew his sight would never be the same again.

Donnie nodded furiously. Tucked away in his belt was a small kit of medical supplies, but nothing that would do what it needed to in this situation, "Yes. I've taken care of my brothers for years now in all of our fights, so I believe I qualify."

* * *

The ceremony continued as Donnie worked, now in the Tent of Sacred Healing, as the mutants called it. The wolf mutant was beaten, the men now careful to stay well away from his face. Gibson was the only one in the tent other than Raph, who lay on a bed of women's garbs, unconscious. During this time, Mikey attempted to see their injured brother, but the men refused to let them into the tent, claiming that outsiders were not permitted past the tent's flap.

"Can we at least look inside to make sure he's okay?" Mikey practically begged, folding his hands together as if praying that they would let him check up on Raph. He was no doctor, but he knew that Raph's condition was not good, "Please?"

The raven mutant with beady black eyes and large feathers protruding from his forearms and shoulder blades shook his beak, "Only a medicine man, the village leader, and the ill are allowed in this tent. He folded his arms in front of him, his talons planted firmly on the ground.

The youngest turtle groaned, turning to their oldest brother standing behind him. Leonardo's face appeared unemotional, but inside he was raging. He was hurt, more than the Shredder, Bishop, or any of his other adversaries could ever hurt him. He felt betrayed. He never knew how Raph actually ever felt, but assumed that he would be able to cool off by himself whenever he went into a fit. He also felt disappointed in himself; he is the leader, he should know what his brothers thought of him at all times, yet he overlooked their red brother as simply throwing tantrums and not really harboring a deep seeded hatred for him.

"What should we do?" Mikey's voice penetrated his thoughts. The youngest brother's eyes seemed tired. They were all tired. They had spent nearly two weeks searching, only to end up being rejected by Raphael, a wound far deeper than they had received before.

Leo answered firmly, unwilling to let his brother see how conflicted he was at the moment. H placed a hand on the other's shoulder, causing their eyes to meet, "We have to respect their customs if we want to avoid a fight. I believe they will let us see Raph" the taste of his brother's name was revolting, "as soon as he's better." The sounds of children flooded the air. The women came back about half an hour ago along with the children, expecting the ceremony to be concluded. Now the young mutants crowded around Casey Jones, poking at his skin and tugging at his clothes, giggling. They'd never seen a human before so naturally they were curious. The women hollered for them to keep away, but the children were being disobedient at the moment and decided to go up to the human. Casey attempted to try and bat the younglings away with his hands without hurting them, but the children were persistent.

* * *

Donnie cleaned and dressed the wound, not really being able to do much else. He instructed Gibson, who he assumed was the village leader, to hold his brothers head above the ground, to make it easier to wrap some sterile gauze around his head to put some pressure over the rolled up piece of cloth over his eye. The purple ninja marveled at just how huge Gibson was compared to his brother; his hands seemed to swallow Raph's head. He wondered what sort of genetic mutation could have caused such monstrous proportions to grow.

After Donnie took care of the major cause of injury to his brother, he could now focus on his battered body. Deep purple patches and abrasions formed over his body from head to toe, making Donnie's stomach drop. He began to fumble around in his First AID kit, pulling out a needle and some dissolvable stitching along with a few cotton balls and a tiny bottle of peroxide. Even before he could wet the cotton with the peroxide, Gibson put one of his hands over Donnie's making him stop and look him in the eye.

"No, do not attend to heal any of your brother's other wounds; the women will take care of it, like they will take care of the others." Gibson's deep voice rumbled in his chest.

The turtle sighed. He thought something like this would happen; with native tribes, tradition and ethics were everything, "Yes, well, with all due respect, Mister Gibson, I am very qualified in healing the sick, plus he's my brother. I will feel responsible if he gets an infection or if he has any internal wounds." Gibson's face seemed unchanged, "And anyways, the ceremony is over, right? So why would it make a difference if I or the women dress his wounds?"

The village leader made a sort of guttural sound in his throat, almost laughing, "You are very naïve, outsider, yet I can tell you are wise; I respect that. No, the boy's rite of passage is not over yet." He shook his head, "The last phase will last for many weeks, or even a whole lunar cycle, depending on how well the boys work together while they are gone."

Donnie didn't know what to say. A whole entire month? There was no way Raph would even be able to move for the next week, not to mention go off on some sort of trip. He had to tell Leo and Mikey before things could get out of hand, "If you don't mind, I'll be right back." Before getting a reply, he slipped out of the tent.


End file.
